Tender Assault and Battery in a Midnight Struggle
by Entwife Incognito
Summary: An interlude on a mild spring night. Jane and Lisbon in a fiery pairing. No reason. It just happened. :-) A double-drabble AU, maybe OOC (Who has even one clue what their intimate life would be?) PWP. Warning! Adult sexual situations. If you do not like that stuff, do not read this! Disclaimer: I own nothing about The Mentalist.


It was a new spring night. Too warm for the heater, too cool to sleep naked under a sheet. Too stuffy and still to be without moving air, too cool for the air conditioner or even a fan. They compromised with the night's indecision by sleeping in pajamas under a blanket with the mild night air drifting through the narrowly open upstairs windows. It was perfect. New insects, and night birds that had not been heard since passing through in the fall migration called like strange new visitors, occasional combinations triggering an old familiarity. Something ancient and full of comfort swiftly drew the human mind to slumber and dreams. Another round of spring. As dawn drew nigh the air would fill with sound, like a bustling feathery, scuttling airport, flights and locations being called over night's intercom, readying for the busy day to come.

They had been spending a lot of nights together for months now, this one at Teresa's house. Long asleep, Patrick had gotten up in the night, before the calls for dawn flights. He shut the light in the bathroom and padded quietly to the bed, climbing in from the bottom. Still in her pajamas, Teresa had pushed off the covers and grabbed his waist with her legs, squeezing tight to hold him. Oh, he loved it when she initiated their lovemaking! But this was the first time in the dead of night, when she usually rebuffed any advances. Those strong little legs pinning him in place made him want to struggle, made him want to win!

He went for what he could reach, pushing up her top to expose the mounds of Teresa's succulent generous breasts, capturing one with a suckling mouth and working his way to the nipple. This he sucked hard! And when she squeaked in the shock of his onslaught, Patrick bit, enough for her to release a throaty gasp as her hips reacted and her pelvic mound thrust into the soft place just under his sternum. He pressed into her there, curling between her legs and pushing them further apart. He could already feel her heat.

Still she held him. What did she want? He started on the other breast, mouthing it lavishly, gentler than with the first one. She pushed it into his mouth, pressing the bony structures of his face and loosing a high little grunt of want and frustration. He set his teeth to her, nibbling and nipping all the soft flesh he could reach until she was almost petting his belly with her sex, holding her knees, pushing on them for a strong purchase against him. His cock was rigid as a post as he watched her act out her feral need, her face turned to one side and her mouth a small "o" as she undulated against him and breathed a rhythm only he would recognize.

Then Teresa looked at him, eyes hot and bright, and brought her hands to his head, twining through his hair and gripping his scalp to push him down, down. Down to the dampness, down to the heat, down to where she needed him. Putting his mouth over the damp fabric, he breathed out long and slow, adding his heat to hers and she cried out, a begging cry, her neck arched in need and longing. He gripped her waistband and she lifted her hips to let him slide her clothes over them, turning for him, to pull out one leg and then the other, throwing her legs in the air where he caught the tops of her thighs and pulled her close, her legs now resting over his shoulders.

Christ, she smelled divine! He wanted to go to his death with Teresa's scent in his nostrils! Should long illness or decline be his fate in old age, he would suffer it gladly if she would just bring her panties to him every night. He would know he was loved and cared for and by whom, even if he got so lost, he forgot her name.

He licked a warm place inside the top of her thigh and then bit it, delighted when her whole body lurched like a wave of heavy water, taking her breasts with it. If he had hurt her, she wouldn't have forced her legs even wider for him. She was wet and sweet, musky and every bit his Teresa, open like an exotic blossom and he made love to that flower because nothing else existed, nothing else Patrick loved so much as this midnight-blooming display. He licked her into the first orgasm, then latched lips and tongue to the needy bud until she screamed and came again, calling his name. Then he was on her, shoving his pants down on the way, shoving his hardened pole deep, shoving it all the way in with one slide while she still contracted, kissing him there as he had kissed her.

Patrick moved in her, hard, deep, fast, her muscles gripping everywhere, but not holding him. She called his name again, commanding him, talking dirty into his ear as she knew he loved, encouraging him to fuck her, she wanted to come again damn it! God, he loved her! Seeking her mouth, he bowed his back so he could stay there and still ream her like she was asking and as every spark in his balls told him to. There was nothing else in this world! Nothing!

He came hard, trying to sink everything rigid and excited between his legs deep into her body, pushing and pushing until he felt he could almost lodge his balls into her when she made a series of rapid undulations with her hips, arched and pressed her sex so tight against him, she might have been trying to swallow him into her throbbing universe. Oh, he wanted to be that astronaut!

When he tried to pull out, she protested, "No. Roll me on top of you."

Patrick gripped her tight and rolled to his back, speechless in the bliss of still being connected as she scooted lower to keep everything she could of him inside her. Then, she turned her head to his chest for a pillow, her hair flowing over his ribs, and they fell asleep with his arm across her back, their inevitable juicy parting a tickle in dreams.


End file.
